


call it destiny, maybe

by Medeae



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cloud Atlas Fusion, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-10 01:20:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6932164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medeae/pseuds/Medeae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cloud Atlas AU. Draco and Hermione meet in different timelines. The character death is brief. One-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	call it destiny, maybe

**Author's Note:**

> This work is non-profit. Credits to JKR, the Cloud Atlas movie and David Mitchell where passages and quotes have been taken.

**New London, 2345**

_It’s cold today_ , Hermione writes. _I am being driven mad_. _I do not know when this will end._

 

Someone knocks on her door and she puts the diary away, making her way over to the peephole. It’s Kingsley. She opens the door.

 

“Another one, I’m afraid.” His face is worn and grey.

 

She sighs. “Where?”

 

“Pikkadile station. Underground.”

 

“Alright.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

She closes the door and strips, changing into black, tying her curls back into a tight bun.

 

**

 

Thankfully, there is only one guard, and he seems half asleep. A whispered _Stupefy_ is all she needs.

 

The prisoner is stirring on the floor. At first glance, she had thought his hair was ash, but she sees know that it is a startling shock of platinum, coated with dust and dirt. As she approaches, he opens his mouth, a look of terror crossing his face. And yet…

 

“Hush! I’m with the Order.” Hermione shows him her wand, hands raised.

 

His expression of relief is indescribable. It is in that moment that she remembers why she signed up for this.

 

She charms the cuffs off his wrists, helping him up, wrapping an arm around his waist. He sags against her, limping slightly.

 

“I thought I could hide my magic, there’s so little of it left as it is –“

 

“Hush. We’ll talk more later. Are you ready?”

 

He nods, and she Apparates them both to headquarters.

 

**

 

“Where am I?”

 

“In a bedroom doubling as a hospital. You’re safe, Draco.”

He exhales and leans back on the pillows, then his brows furrow. “How do you know my name?”

 

She is confused. “I’m not sure.”

 

“Why do you look so familiar?”

 

“I don’t know,” she says, making to leave. “Look, I’ll leave you to get some rest.”

 

“Her – Hermione, isn’t it?”

 

She turns, but there isn’t much shock in her, “That’s right.”

 

“How do we know each other?”

 

“I don’t know that, either. I’ve been dreaming about you for years.”

 

“When I saw you, just now, before you moved to stand up, I saw a lot of things in my mind. It was almost like they were – “

 

“Memories?”

 

“Yes.” He cocks his head. “I feel like something important has happened to me. Is it possible? I just met you and yet, I have fallen in love with you.”

 

**London, 2012**

She is at a party, when she sees him. His eyes are bright – this pale-haired boy is so vibrant, so alive, thrumming with energy – and he’s looking at her too.

 

**Hogwarts, 1990s**

The Great Hall is amazing, but Hermione is much too focused on the test at hand to notice much. When her name is called, she runs eagerly forward, jamming the hat on her head.

 

 _Strange_ , the hat says. _It cannot be. And yet_ …

 

“What is it?” Hermione whispers. “Have I failed already?”

 

_No, it’s something else… never you mind._

“GRYFFINDOR!”

 

She hears Ron groan loudly and holds her head up higher, sitting down at the Gryffindor table. Someone that can only be Ron’s older brother pats her on the back.

 

“Malfoy, Draco!”

 

Hermione looks up with interest. This is the boy, then, whom Ron has so much distaste for. He looks ordinary, expression triumphant as he’s Sorted into Slytherin.

 

As he makes his way over to the Slytherin table, Hermione catches his eye. He pauses mid-stride, brows furrowed, head cocked to one side.

 

 _A storm and a ship, and a woman under a bed. A hotel desk. Chains_ and over and over again, images are flashing across her mind in rapid succession. _Blood_ , and she screams.

 

Everyone in the Hall turns to stare at her, but her eyes are still locked on Draco’s. He’s perspiring, and his hair sticks to his forehead.

 

He looks away first.

 

**

 

She finds him, after their first class.

 

“Hello. I’d like to speak to you, if you don’t mind, Draco.” She smiles for good measure.

 

His expression is one of contempt, but there is still a flicker of hesitation and so much recognition before that.

 

“Why would I want to speak to you, Granger? Little swot, aren’t you?”

 

Crabbe and Goyle laugh at that, and together, they flounce off.

 

**London, 1950**

“Good morning, ma’am, and do you have a reservation?” He’s charming, and she’s charmed.

 

“I do.”

 

**Hogwarts, 1920**

They first meet on the train, a chance encounter with her chocolate bar rolling over to his feet. He smiles and picks it up for her. She blushes furiously.

 

Later, during the Sorting, their eyes meet, and the whole Hall gasps as the first Malfoy in generations gets sorted into Gryffindor. Of course, he moves to sit next to her.

 

It is a slow burn, this.

 

**

 

They are 17 before he gives her that first piece of jewellry, a necklace with a fiery red locket, a Gryffindor colour. She blushes the same shade as he lifts her hand to his lips.

 

They spend nights sitting out by the lake, and he always turns to look at the way the moonlight shines off her face.

 

This is bliss. This is utter joy.

 

**A ship in the ocean, 1849**

Yet again, his food has gone missing. A little nibble here and there only, sure, but it is still something. His suspicions are confirmed, then.

 

He walks to the bed and says, “I know you’re in here.”

 

Silence.

 

“Don’t be afraid.”

 

Still silence.

 

He bends down then, puts his cheek level to the ground, and he sees her, wee little thing, almost indiscernible in the gloom of the ship. “Please come out.”

 

She hesitates, but she moves to get out, emerging finally from the depths of the bed, with dust and dirt clinging to her face and hair.

 

“What’s your name?” he asks, not unkindly.

 

“Hermione, sir.”

 

“Hermione what?”

 

“That’s all there is. That’s all that was given to me.” Her eyes are downcast.

 

The silence is awkward, before he says, “The Captain is a good man.”

 

“No man is good.”

 

“If I tell him you are here – “

 

A look of terror crosses her face. “You cannot.”

 

“If you work for your boarding and food, I’m sure he’ll be willing to let you stay on board.”

 

“No,” she sobs, “please. You cannot do this.”

 

“Trust me,” he says, and leaves to find the Captain.

 

**

 

He returns after a short while, too short. He smiles.

 

“The Captain is asking to see you. Don’t worry. Trust me.”

 

She trusts him, then, and follows him out into the startling sunlight. All around them, men are staring at her.

 

“So, Mr. Malfoy here says you can work for your keep. Can you?”

 

Her voice is quiet, hopeful. “I can, sir.”

 

“Very well, then. Show me how you can scrub. Just over there, where the bucket is.”

 

She runs there eagerly, almost slamming the brush on the floor, and begins to scrub away. She looks up and sees Draco smiling at her and she thinks, _trusting him was right_ , but she misses the nod that the Captain gives to his crew, and almost doesn’t realise when they begin advancing on her. She screams as they hoist her up by the arms.

 

“What are you doing?” Draco shouts. “You gave me your word!”

 

“There is a natural order to this world,” the Captain says, turning to look at Draco, “and those who try to upend it do not fare well.”

 

She is thrown overboard before he can save her, and the splash she makes is almost unnoticeable, but there are ripples nonetheless.

 

**Hogwarts, 1920**

“I am engaged to be married,” he tells her, gazing into the lake. “And I will be married soon.”

 

Her voice is flat. This is not completely unexpected. “I see.”

 

“If you let me tell my father about you –“

 

“He will never accept me.”

 

“How do you know?”

 

She smiles wryly to herself. “I saw it in a dream, once.”

 

“A dream? Hermione, this is the future of us on the line –“

 

“If you tell your father, our future will be even shorter than it already is.” She tilts his chin so that he is looking her square in the eyes. “Do you trust me?”

 

He nods firmly. “With my life.”

 

“Then you must not tell him. We must each carry on until we cannot.”

 

“Until this inevitably comes to an end?”

 

She lets a single tear fall. She moves to hug him fiercely, burying her head in his shoulder. “I believe there is another world waiting for us, Draco, a better world, and I’ll be waiting for you there.”

 

**London, 1950**

He shows her up to her room, and there is a moment when they are both standing in the doorway staring at each other. She almost reaches her hand out to touch him, but he just tips his hat and scurries away.

 

The next morning, he is not there.

 

**Hogwarts, 1990s**

“Granger.” The voice is terse.

 

She looks up and sets her jaw. “What do you want, Malfoy? I’m busy studying, I don’t have time for any of your taunts.”

 

He looks drawn, ill, almost, and when he speaks, it’s like he’s choking the words out. “It’s not that. I’ve come to ask for help.”

 

She almost laughs, then. “Help? From me?”

 

“Yes.” His eyes are a deep grey. “Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

 

“Why me?”

 

“Because I know you remember. Me, that is, and I know you feel it too. Our lives are not our own. We are bound to others – “

 

“Past and present,” she finishes, looking at him curiously. “Alright, Malfoy. I’ll help you.”

 

**

 

Inevitably, Voldermort finds out about his treachery, and Bellatrix kills him right in front of her and his parents, seconds before Dobby Apparates them away.

 

**London, 2012**

They go back to her room, and somehow, she knows every curve of his body, every indent of his hips, knows exactly when he’s going to thrust and how he’s going to kiss her. It’s almost as if she’s done this for years, like they’d been lovers for millennium, like they were one.

It’s too much for her, this feeling of completeness. She leaves before the sun rises, but not before she stops to plant a kiss on his forehead and memorise the way the moon shines off his face.

 

**New London, 2345**

“I love you, you know.”

 

She arches her eyebrows. “I know.”

 

A pause, then, “Too much Star Wars, I think.”

 

“You _think_.”

 

She laughs, and the sound is warm and rich. He feels it _everywhere_ , a drop of warm honey spilling out from his heart, spreading everywhere. “I love you too.”

 

He pulls her to him, burying his head in her neck, tracing his nose up the curve of her jaw. “Even after this?” he asks, fingers leaving a burning trail where they brush across the inside of her arm, over silver scars that had not faded and would not ever fade.

 

Her eyes meet his. “Even after this. Even after tomorrow. Even after now, even after always.”

 

**

 _It is_ , she writes, _it is_.

 

**

 

“There is a natural order to this world,” the President says on the big screen, “and those who try to upend it do not fare well. People with magic in their blood are half-lives, and they must be shown their place.”

 

Draco and Hermione continue moving towards the wizards and witches held captive, moving in tandem, hands brushing against one another in the darkness.

 

If this was to be the end, so be it. They had lived so many lives together, and even if this one ended in tragedy as well, it was still a life lived by each other’s side. Maybe there was a world that brought happiness to both of them, together. Maybe. But right here, right now, they are still next to one another, and in that moment, it is enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Might expand if there are requests. As always, do leave feedback and kudos if you liked it! Also, sorry about not updating my other fic - I sort of forgot where I was going with it, but I will try to continue with it. Thanks for reading!


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